


you can stay (yeah, you can stay)

by disturbiing



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Existential Crisis, Religion, Set in California, hyunjin is catholic, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disturbiing/pseuds/disturbiing
Summary: "Hyunjin, do you know what you're doing?"
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin & Lee Minho | Lee Know
Kudos: 24





	you can stay (yeah, you can stay)

It wasn’t hard for Hyunjin to feel this way. Eyes closed, his hands drifted over the curve of his bent leg, over his waving body, and around his neck. The music streamed from his headphones directly into his ear, punctuated by the popping and locking of joints and hips. In the dim lights of the studio looking out over the sparkling skyline of Los Angeles, time seemed nonexistent, rather than shortened or lengthened. It was as if everything else diminished.

The last airy electronic notes of the song trailed off, and he stretched out on the ground, feeling his chest heave on the hard cold floor. The studio always looked beautifully cold on winter nights like these, when the flashing blue lights of the bustling city filtered into the room, complimenting the freezing temperature. The adrenaline still attacked Hyunjin, and an unconscious smile spread across his face.

Before, his head was always cluttered with voices and harsh thoughts, too full for this good feeling (happiness?), but now it came to him so easily. In between bouts of stress and anxiety, he found solace in the movement of his limbs in pounding dance rooms.

A voice penetrated the silence, “I saw that. You were really good.”

Hyunjin turned his head to see the figure of Minho at the doorway, lit up by the soft light of his phone. The twenty-one year old senior, Minho, was the _best_ dancer, and the nineteen year old sophomore’s favorite hyung to ask for advice. Minho was funny, honest, and nice, and he really did try to help. Typically, the upperclassmen were dismissive of the sophomores, but Minho was always doing stuff like this, looking in on their practices and offering genuine criticism.

Hyunjin brushed off Minho’s compliment with a laugh, although he felt himself that he did really well today. He already knew that he would post it on his Instagram story later. Next to where Hyunjin lay on the ground, Minho situated himself with his legs crossed, tossing his bags to the side, “No really, you were amazing. If you just clean up your feet, it will be as good as what I can do.” Hyunjin laughed at that again, and though some might have thought that Minho was being a little cocky, he still felt warmth the compliment. It was nice.

“What are you doing here, Minho?” Hyunjin asked, still a little bit out of breath from the dancing and the laughing, “I saw some of the guys from your team a couple hours ago and they said that you had some big paper due tomorrow morning?” Minho groaned and flopped down on the ground next to Hyunjin.

“I can’t do it. Please don’t remind me of that damn paper.” Minho signed. Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice the pretty way Minho’s lips pursed when he pouted, and the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheek.

“Oops. Sorry, hyung.” he giggled awkwardly.

“It’s alright, I’m just kidding,” Minho smiled reassuringly at him. A natural silence fell between them, and so they just both looked up at the ceiling on their backs, listening to the Billie Eilish song Hyunjin was dancing to. Hyunjin’s breathing evened out, and he wondered if Minho felt awkward. The younger definitely didn’t, he really didn’t but, well, he was insecure and couldn’t help but wonder. Although the two were fairly close, Hyunjin had never really spent time like _this_ alone with him.

It was kind of beautiful, the electronic glow that colored their room and illuminated Minho’s sharp features. Hyunjin could imagine that they were the main characters of some movie or music video. The silence felt suddenly comfortable and gorgeous, and Hyunjin let his imagination drift wistfully to a world in which they were here _together_ and he could reach over and hug him, envelop himself in Minho’s arms and litter little kisses onto his cheeks.

“Hyunjin, do you know what you’re doing?” Minho broke the silence.

“No,” Hyunjin frowned, “Um, laying down?” He chuckled a little, but Minho’s face remained stony.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Minho sighed heavily, and Hyunjin’s face burned at the immature non-joke he just made. Hyunjin had never seen Minho like this. The older boy tended to be wearing a sneaky smile or an expression of gentle assurance, a constant of security and firm foundation. He had never looked like this, eyebrows scrunched together, corners of his mouth firmly tucked downwards.

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin was dumbfounded. They never had a conversation about anything other than the McDonald’s menu changes.

“What am I doing with my life, Hyunjin? English major? What kind of dumbass was I do like the humanities?” He groaned jokingly, but his voice wavered.

“Don’t you like English? It’s all you ever really talk about. Every time I see you, I hear Shakespeare’s name like six times!” Hyunjin jovially elbowed Minho’s shoulder, who only smiled weakly.

“Yeah, I do love English. But it’s not enough, Hyunjin. Sometimes I think it might be. But then I think about doing it for the rest of my life and- and I think I’d rather it just all ended. I don’t think any of it matters at all and I’m just kidding myself.” Minho’s eyes closed.

A lifetime Catholic, Hyunjin had to suppress the urge within him to talk about God and salvation, but he made a mental note to pray for him, fingering the silver cross on his neck. No, Minho wouldn’t like that.

“You don’t have to say anything, you know? I don’t really know why I said all this in the first place, I’m not usually like this.” Cars honked in the freeway below their window. Minho’s voice was steady, but his eyes shined with anxiety. “I don’t think my friends have ever seen me cry, but I just needed to tell someone.”

Hyunjin didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t want to make it about himself, and his own existentialism, by talking about his experiences, but he also knew that there was no advice that worked when he felt like this too. It was just the kind of thing that they would have to figure out eventually. He reached out his hand and grabbed Minho’s.

“I- I’m glad you told me. You’re gonna figure it out, you know? Life moves on and the days keep on going on and on and we just have to go along with it because- well, because we just have to.” Hyunjin squeezed his hand tighter, “You know you can always talk to me when you feel this way?”

“Well, I’m gonna be talking to you nearly every day then,” Minho said.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really mind,” Hyunjin retorted, “You’re kind of amazing to talk to anyway.” He inched closer to the stiff older boy.

“It’s not a burden?” Minho squeezed Hyunjin’s hand even tighter. If it was possible, Hyunjin’s hand was feeling lightheaded.

“Are you kidding? Burden? No way.”

Minho didn’t say anything, only buried his damp face into the crook of Hyunjin’s shoulder. Hyunjin wondered what it was like for Minho, if he really never had anyone he could blow off steam to. He thought of days ranting to his dog, hours praying to a God he was only pretty sure was there, and crying in the arms of his parents and friends. Minho didn’t have… any of that? He was more than willing to be there for him.

“I’m here for you.”


End file.
